From Margaret Stevenson
ALS: American Philosophical Society
I have sent your Letters and no answer. Jackson1 Broght the watchcase, gist [just] as you was gouen out of the Street; no won cald own a Saturday or Sunday. I and my too children went to Church In the morning, the after None gave Nanny Leave [?] Miss Clarck2 came at half hour after forr stade tell all moste Teen; I have not har’d of Poley; this Morning Mr. Wood3 calld. I askt him whar he Loged he sad you know: he saw you at Paris. The Man of the Blew dey, Mr. Mead4 Is hear. I drink Tea thar at six a Clock this evening. I wod not goi soner, becaus of being in the way to tak missages my Self; well Mr. Sthran, came as I was going to conclud, he says what you out so soon. I sade yeas tis beten [between] Tewelf and one he has opind you to go to Mr. Whitfelds next Mondy moring. I told him I thought you had som outher Ingagem[en]t for Monday next and that is all. I am glad to har your situation is agreeabl, we ar all well. I hope to see you also at your Return that you may be happy thar and hear or whar ever—is the moste harty wish of—Dear Sir Your obliged friend
Addressed: To / Dr. Franklin
9. Mrs. Stevenson must have written this letter after BF’s trip to Paris, and the reported conversation with Wood suggest that he called at Craven Street fairly soon after BF’s return on October 1767. BF was away from home but clearly had not been gone long, yet he could not be very far away, for Mrs. Stevenson had already heard that his situation was “agreeabl.” It seems probable that she wrote during BF’s stay at Peter Collinson’s home at Mill Hill (about nine miles northwest of London), where he was invited to visit beginning on October 23 or 24, 1767; above, pp. 284–5.
1. This Jackson, possibly a watchmaker or other artisan, has not been identified.
2. Possibly the Miss Mary Clarke who performed London shopping errands for WF’s wife; above, XIII, 258 n.
3. Not identified, but see above, XII, 431 n.
4. Possibly Samuel Mead, F.R.S., commissioner of the Customs; above, X, 60 n. The editors confess themselves baffled by Mrs. Stevenson’s “Blew dey.”